


Stuck on a Vein

by DragonRider1



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Choking, Gore, M/M, Red Lyrium, Red Lyrium Gore, Strangulation, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRider1/pseuds/DragonRider1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was unavoidable, to hear the scream as the Red Templar Rogue struck the Trevelyan boy down. Watch as the little brat fell to the snow, painted red with his blood and the air full of his pained cries. For Lavellan to watch his husband writhe in pain and unable to do much more than hope they got it all, pray to his Creators that not a single shard of red lyrium was left within him. The Gods never hear though, there are no mercies, and all suffer when one Inquisitor falls.</p><p>(An Alternate Storyline to my "Cinnamon Smoke and Ironbark" series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Till Death

**Author's Note:**

> Something from an AU for the storyline verse I share with my friend, where both Noble Trevelyan and Hunter Lavellan become Inquisitors and eventually husbands. The Alternate Universe being were one of them doesn’t make it to the end and rather ends up succumbing to red lyrium, which they pretty much decide to keep the Inquisitor locked up for Dagna to study red lyrium and the progression of the change caused by it.
> 
> (Also this may become chaptered, depending on if I want to explore the living/progression of Red lyrium in the Inquisitor to the fullest. In which more tags/warnings will be added.)

The door swung inwards with a soft creak, letting the cold breeze push up from the cells and wash over Inquisitor Lavellan. The Inquisitor treading forward and down into the cold, dark spiral of the dungeon; the braziers lining the steps burning low, the fires would need to be fed again soon. The footfalls behind him clapped and echoed along the stone walls, sliding against each of his thoughts and making each of his own steps feel heavier. He could feel the piercing gazing shooting through the back of his head, settling as an arrow would within his skull and he expected no different in this moment. This was not something he wanted either, something he wanted to do, or where he wanted to be. What laid at the bottom of the stairs he’d rather leave buried and unknown, but the man behind him was all to willing to dig up all the mistakes he’d let slip by him. 

“Inquisitor.” The guard tipping her head as Assan descended from the last step and came to a stop by her, her eyes pulling to his guest and she stood a little straighter with her head bowed lower. “Lord Trevelyan.” 

The shemlen let out a grunt, brushing past Assan and knocking him from his already unsteady, hesitant stance. The man rushing in long strides to the crumbling, dirt-filled cell to their left. Assan could already hear the huff of anger in the noble’s throat, a chill running through him as he nodded to the guard and slowly made his way to where Lord Trevelyan stood. 

“Ser Bann, I’m very–” 

“Do not speak to me, knife ear.” The noble growling deep from his throat, his eyes locked on the prisoner. His own son reduced to being a captive in his own Keep, corrupted and mangled by red lyrium. The little boy he watched grow up now so torn apart, all because of an attack no one could stop. Assan could never stand to look at it, he wondered how Bann could hold his son with such a steady gaze. Though Assan felt his stomach drop as the sharp look was turned on him, Bann looking with such disdain. “What’s the matter, elf? Can you not look at what you’ve done? Where is your loving, teasing glances now?” 

Assan jerked as Bann lunged at him, the human grabbing onto him quickly and wrapping his arms around him. A grunt falling from Assan’s lips, the elf struggling to pull himself from the other man’s grip; his fight failing and his back was instead pressed against Bann’s chest, the noble’s hand hooking under his chin and forcing him to face forwards. The Inquisitor’s body shuddering as he stared at what his love and life had become, Caswyn cowered in the cell’s corner and trembling just as the elf did. The young Trevelyan’s scarred and torn skin glimmering in glow of the red lyrium, spiked through his skin and along his back. The sickening glow pulsing in time with the small human’s heart, each breath shaking the man to his very core. A human that had become no more than a massacred mess of shard twisted around bone, pierced through muscle, and speared out of his skin; his blood painted and smeared across his body where the lyrium had broken or been filed from his body, staining the useless bandages bright crimson. Caswyn being utterly broken and rocking in the dark corner, whispering to no one and seeing nothing with once beautiful grey eyes now hidden in fear and shame behind bandages. 

“Are you happy, knife-ear? Is what you’ve done to my son finally enough for you?” The low, grounded out threat rang through Assan’s ears and he quivered against the man’s chest, bucking again to be freed from the bruising grip. A gasp drawn from Assan as Bann threw him around and straight into the ground, the elf skidding across the uneven stone floor and gritting his teeth as rock scored into his skin. 

“Lord Treve–” 

“I said to shut up!” Bann’s hand were instantly around his throat, easily lifting him from the ground. Assan futilely kicking at the human and clawing at the hands crushing down on his throat, the guard behind them letting out a sound of shock and Assan could hear her race up the stairs calling for Cassandra and Leliana. 

For a brief moment Assan wanted to laugh, to smirk, to mock the noble for losing face. That the Inquisition soldiers will be taking him into custody, that he will have finally failed to pretend he tolerated the elf. Mirth left him quickly though, to hard to find as his lungs strained for air as Bann grasped tighter. His thumbs pressed into the elf’s throat and Assan letting out a strangled wheeze, fingers trying to slip in and peel away the noble’s. His chest burning for air as his vision dotted black, Bann’s wild eyes glimmering with murderous intent and Assan’s fight leaving him as his body slowly became numb. 

There was slight streak of red, a red light flashing and reflected before him. Assan gasped for breath as he was again thrown from Bann and onto the floor, his hands jumping up to rub away the lingering feeling of fingers pressed at his throat. His eyes snapped up to Bann and he felt them widen as he watched the noble, the surprise on the lord’s face as great as his. Both of them transfixing on the thick shard of lyrium impaled through him, watching it pulse with a heartbeat before being slid from him. The loud slick noise drawn out through the empty dungeon and blood pouring forth from the wound, staining the stone as Bann collapsed instantly before Caswyn’s cell. The little Trevelyan son leaning against the bars his cell and his shard covered hand falling limply to his side, swinging blood droplets across the floor as his father’s blood leaked from the tips of his fingers. 

“Ca–Caswyn?” Assan’s voice shuttering as he watched, the gurgling and grasping of Bann at his boots ignored as Assan tried to comprehend the horror that was once his husband. The same person he had shared a bed with, now dripping in his father’s blood and unaffected. 

Caswyn only answered with a tip of his head to the side and his lips mouthing around soundless words, Assan’s trembling returning as he locked into place with shock and a twinge of guilty fear. 

“Ca–Caswyn, please. Are–Are you–” 

“Let the blade pass through the flesh, let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice.” Caswyn’s voice gaining volume and glazed with the red lyrium, the prayer falling from his lips again and again. Assan’s chest tightening with each new turn of the broken words, the lump in his throat growing each time the chant fell from cracked, bloodied lips. Till finally the elf turned over and heaved across the stone floor, bile pushed from his stomach and seeping into the cracks of the stone as the corrupt-laden chant continued to echo around him. Tear pricking and gathering as he stayed on trembling arms, refusing to turn back and see the scene behind him. To see Bann torn through, Caswyn finally lost to taint and corruption. 

It is how the others found him, rushing down the steps in quick strides and coming across the gruesome state of the dungeon. Gasps and shock of their own filling his ears as Leliana did her best to pull Assan to his feet and out of the gore-filled dungeon. The Spymaster getting the elven Inquisitor to the light and fresh air, only to lose himself and his stomach again out in the courtyard. Quivering and stumbling over himself to leave that behind, all of it. 

It was something he had never wanted to see, to never happen to Caswyn and even if Bann, the bastard, had deserved it…Assan almost collapsing again and Leliana quickly grabbed him again. Caswyn wouldn’t suffer this anymore, time was no long a mercy for his love.


	2. Blood on the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creators give the Inquisitor mercy, guide his heart home to safety. Maker hear his cries and deliver your most holy from this punishment. Please, let him be okay.

It was bloody freezing, he was certain he'd long lost his balls and the tips of his ears to the chill of snow and cut of wind. The elf Inquisitor doing the best he could to sink further back into his hood and away from the cold, pushing forward through the deep snow of Emprise Du Lion. A sigh falling from his lips as he pushed a little harder through the snow to fall in step beside the other Inquisitor, Trevelyan looking far better off than him and Lavellan could only assume he was far more used to it. 

He noticed Trevelyan's sharp grey eyes glance his way, though the human's face kept pulled neutral and his eyes almost immediately flicked back ahead. 

"What's your problem now?" Trevelyan's words drifted just barely above the blow of the wind. 

"Nothing. Well besides the fact my bits may be froze solid to my legs, but other than that..." Lavellan teased. 

"Perhaps if you wore more clothing or maybe even something suitable, you know for the snow?" 

"Forgive my wardrobe for lacking overly-expensive fleeces. For Mythal's sake, the Dalish don't even deal with snow. We intentionally move away from it, not march straight into it." 

"Stop whining." Trevelyan's tone more teasing than his words seemed and he lightly pressed close to Lavellan, the elf smiled at the contact. "When we get back I will buy you new, _warmer_ set of clothes. The finest I can afford, if the poor, poor shivering Inquisitor can survive till then." 

Lavellan chuckled and pushed Trevelyan back, looking over his shoulder at their companions trudging along behind them. 

"I will endeavor to survive so that my loving husband can spoil me; after all, I would hate to miss a chance to squander his family's _hard-earned_ gains." Trevelyan's laugh filled the air and Lavellan's grin grew, he loved the soft, light voice of his husband. He looked forward to hearing it later too, when camp was set and they had privacy to cuddle for warmth. 

"I hate to break up the banter, Boss. As disgustingly cute as it is, but we've got red Templars ahead." 

Bull pulled their attentions ahead, Lavellan's grin never leaving and his fingers danced to the hilt of his daggers. 

"See you in a bit, brat." Assan teased again, the elf quickly stealing a kiss from the human. His lips pressed against Trevelyan's, while the shadows of stealth crawled across his skin and took him from sight. Assan caught the exasperated, but amused look on Caswyn's face before he made his way towards the Red Templars. Following close behind Bull and Cassandra as they made a charge for the majority of the Red Templars and he heard an arrow zip with a snap past his face, taking a Red Templar with it and alerting the others. Arrows and Bolts rained from behind as Assan met the Templars head on, stepping from the shadows to sink a dagger into one Templar's back before zooming past another and slipping back into stealth. The battlefield a whirlwind of archers, warriors, and a dagger-wielder, the Red Templars barely stood a chance and fell with an ease as the group whipped back and forth among the enemies. The ground painted in bodies and red lyrium shards. 

"Ugh!" 

Assan's blood ran cold at the sound, an exhale of pain from behind him and he cut through the last of his opponents. Turning quickly to see Caswyn cough up blood, distress and fear wide in his silver eyes as he stared at the red lyrium shard impaling him. Assan's feet moved him before he could think and he whipped right past Caswyn, sinking his daggers deep into the Red Templar rogue and quickly ripping the monster apart. Making sure to sever the shard in Caswyn from the Templar as it hit the ground, though another scream from Caswyn rang in his ears. The elf turning to see the Trevelyan hit the ground on his knees, quivering and a shrill, gut-wretching sound forced out of his throat. The snow below him soaked in the deep red of his blood and Assan felt his stomach drop further. 

He snapped down beside Caswyn, rolling the man over with shaking hands and he immediately went for the shard. A hand on his shoulder pulling him away and he pushed it off with a growl. 

"Sticky Fingers, don't. You'll kill him." Varric grabbed his shoulder again and Assan went to hit Varric, Bull grabbing his arm. 

"What do you want me to do then? We can't leave it in!" 

" Calm down, first boss. We'll do what we can, I got some potions left." Bull offered up his vials and Assan jumped for them, immediately going back to Caswyn and he carefully reached for the shard again. 

"Shh, it'll be okay brat. Just stay with me." Assan whispered to Caswyn, slowly pulling the shard and he winced as Caswyn whined loudly. Assan pulling the stopper and feeding Caswyn the red liquid, as he slowly dislodged the giant shard with his other hand. The potion at least helping to slow the bleeding, mending the most fatal tears to a stop and vastly lessening the chance for the smaller Inquisitor to bleed out. 

Finally he managed to work it free, but he grimaced at Caswyn's mangled side. The shards of lyrium embedded and glowing among blood and flesh. Assan pulled his Artificer kit, using his quill tool to work out each shard. Bull watched and guarded them from another attack, while Cassandra held Caswyn's head in her lap. Her fingers combing through his short, black hair. Caswyn's breath hitched and he let out another cry as Assan sunk the quill by accident, his fingers quivering too hard and he panicked again. His hands shaking before Varric lightly pushed him. 

"Talk to him, I've got the rest of it." Varric pressed, his fingers steadier as they went to work on Caswyn and Assan let the trembling take him completely. His fingers sliding through Caswyn's and pulling Caswyn's hand to his lips. 

"Please don't leave me, brat. I won't forgive you. I love you, I can't lose you, remember? Please. I need you, Caswyn." 

Caswyn's fingers gripped his a little tighter and he almost broke right then and there, his lips pressed harder against the dark skin and prayers to every one of his Gods whispered to the skin.

_Creators please_


End file.
